


Really, brother?

by make_your_user_a_name



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Castiel in Denial (Supernatural), Denial of Feelings, Episode: s11e18 Hell's Angel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Episode: s11e18 Hell's Angel, Praying to Castiel (Supernatural), cassifer - Freeform, okay the fluff isn't really there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/make_your_user_a_name/pseuds/make_your_user_a_name
Summary: After Lucifer is captured by Amara, he escapes inside Cas' mind to find out why he chose the bunker's kitchen, of all places, to be his safe-haven. There he learns that his younger brother is desperately in love with the older Winchester.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 98





	Really, brother?

Another wave of pain rolled through him and Cas felt Lucifer cry out, looking at Amara with hateful eyes. The pain rocked their whole vessel, drawing Castiel out from the haven he’d created into his mind to watch the world through Lucifer’s eyes. 

She was angry. Furious that God had failed to notice her, confused at Dean’s lack of reaction to her presence. And she was taking it all out on God’s old favorite in hopes He would show up. 

Lucifer let all of the pain pass through him straight to Castiel so they both experienced the full brunt of it. Cas gritted his teeth--as best he could without teeth anyway--and waited for the pain to pass. After she’d gotten her fill, Amara turned and disappeared further into the warehouse. 

Lucifer slumped against the bonds holding them up, pain buzzing in the vessel. Cas just stared around the dark warehouse blankly, trying to clear his mind. Suddenly he felt the world folding in on him. He was being pulled back into his mind, back into the vessel, away from reality. 

When the world stopped spinning, he was standing in the bunker’s kitchen again. Lucifer sat on the counter, his fingers idly tracing a pattern on the countertop.

“Help me understand, brother,” he started, the slight emphasis on brother revealing how little he cared for the title. “All of God’s Earth that you could have chosen to shelter you, and you chose here. The Winchester’s kitchen.” 

Cas looked at him, his feet rooted to the ground. He didn’t answer. He didn’t owe Lucifer that. 

The Devil rolled his eyes and hopped off the counter, quickly crossing the kitchen to Castiel. 

“I didn’t have much time to explore earlier, Castiel. I was focused on other things, always running around… it’s a busy gig I got, ya know? But as long as we’re just sitting here, waiting for the Darkness to come back, we’re gonna have a little fun.” As soon as he finished speaking, he reached forward and gripped the sides of Castiel’s face tightly in his hands. 

Cas cringed, feeling ice rush through him. It was so different than when Dean touched him like this. When Dean held his face, he felt warm, safe.

He felt Lucifer’s cold grace fill him and tried desperately to lock his memories, to shield himself from the Devil. But eventually, the pain filling him was too much. There was nothing he could do, and he spilled out, completely bare and vulnerable. 

Visions passed in front of his eyes, a warm rush coming with each one. 

He saw Dean’s soul in Hell, twisted and broken, but shining brighter than the fires surrounding it. 

He saw Dean’s body, cradled in his arms. Completely rebuilt from scratch, but not a single atom out of place. He watched as his arms gently laid the body in a pine box before he stepped back, content to watch silently as Dean crawled from the Earth. 

He saw Dean’s face, his green eyes ablaze as he fired shot after shot into Cas. Those eyes widened in fear as the angel continued his forward march, calmly announcing that he was an angel of the Lord. 

He saw Dean’s eyes flick up to his every so often, felt himself treasure every glance, every look, every stolen moment. 

He saw Dean reach out and grab his shoulder, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he asked Cas not to change. 

He saw Dean slumped against the Impala, broken and defeated, his brother locked in Hell with the Devil. 

He saw Dean’s tears. His look open and betrayed as Cas stood in a circle of holy fire, trying desperately to explain, to defend himself. 

Then the memories sped up. A touch here, a broken plea there, a soulful glance there. Lucifer riffled through them all, and Cas could feel his smug glee growing by the second. He saw Dean wrapping Cas carefully in a blanket, holding on for just a second too long, and then he was back in the bunker’s kitchen, staring defiantly into Satan’s cold smile. 

“Really, brother? I’d heard rumors,” he said softly, his shoulders shaking slightly from uncontained laughter. “But this? You’ve fallen more in love with Dean Winchester than is even possible for an angel. And the kicker?” He snorted, glancing up at the ceiling. “The idiot loves you back.” 

Cas gulped, determined to keep his silence but wanting to contradict him. Dean didn’t love him back. Dean cared, maybe. He cared for his usefulness, for his skill in battle, certainly. But not for _him_. Not in the way that Cas-

He cut off the train of thought and turned his attention back to Lucifer. But the archangel must have seen something on his face. His smirk deepend and he stepped forward, trailing a hand over Cas’ cheek. 

“You don’t think he loves you back,” he said, faking an exaggerated pout. “Well, we’re just gonna have to prove that wrong aren’t we.” He licked his lips and his smile grew, then he snapped his fingers and everything went black. 

He heard the cold voice behind him before we opened his eyes. “You probably aren’t going to ask where we are.” 

Cas looked around, surprised to find them in the hallway of the bunker. 

“We’re in Dean’s dream,” Lucifer continued. “Let’s hope it’s something interesting tonight, huh?” 

Cas didn’t answer, just focused on his breathing. Air rushed into his lungs and then back out. He could feel it the whole way, slightly colder than the rest of him. It wasn’t something he needed, but it always helped him calm down. The other angels would think it very human of him. 

“Come _on_ , Castiel. This won’t be any fun if you don’t talk.” 

He still didn’t say anything. He didn’t want this to be fun for the Devil. Whatever he was about to see would be designed to torture him. It wouldn’t be real. Then he felt red hot pain shoot through his stomach and he doubled over, leaning heavily against the wall. He looked up through slitted eyes to see Lucifer watching him, his fist casually clenched in the air. He rotated his hand slightly and Cas felt the pain double, causing him to fall to the floor. 

“Okay,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. 

“Aw, the wayward angel speaks!” Lucifer said, his voice ringing down the hallway. “Now, let’s see what your boyfriend is dreaming about with you taken from him.”

“He’s not-”

Lucifer continued, ignoring Cas’ protests, “Now, we can’t actually change anything. I don’t have that kind of power with Amara trapping us. So he won’t know we’re here. We’re just observing.”

“I know this is a trick,” Cas said, following Lucifer as he walked down the hallway toward Dean’s door. 

“If that makes it easier for you, little brother,” Lucifer said with a smirk tossed back over his shoulder toward the angel. And Cas knew his words were hollow. This felt real. He could feel Dean’s soul buzzing all around them, his energy as radiant as always. And regardless of who he’d travelled with, he let himself revel in it. Just for a moment. 

They reached Dean’s door and Lucifer leaned against the wall, peering further down the hallway. Cas watched as a figure emerged. It was him. His trenchcoat hung messily at his side and his hair was spiked at odd angles. 

But he didn’t care about that. What he cared about was the cold stab of fear that entered his heart. He couldn’t watch Dean yell at him. Couldn’t see what Dean really thought of him. It felt like an invasion of his privacy, and he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. 

He turned to leave but felt a cold hand on his shoulder, nails digging into his skin. 

“Let’s watch a little longer, shall we?” 

Cas sighed but turned. He watched himself reach out and knock on the door. His face was a mask, and he wondered what Dean was going to say, what he’d do when Cas came to him with nothing useful to offer. 

The door swung open slowly and Dean poked his head left and right before looking straight at Cas, or dream Cas anyway. “Cas?”

“Dean,” he heard himself say quietly. It was a near perfect approximation of his voice, and he wondered briefly how Dean had gotten it so perfect in his dream. 

“Come in,” Dean said softly, his voice completely emotionless. 

Cas wanted to turn. To run as far away as he could from this. But one glance at Lucifer’s face told him he wouldn’t get very far. Lucifer walked into the room after dream Cas, and Cas felt icy tendrils reach from behind the Devil, pulling him with him. 

Something clogged in his throat, and he took another shaky breath to steady himself. 

He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be spying on Dean like this. He didn’t belong anywhere near Dean Winchester’s heart, and his dreams might as well be the closest representation of it. 

When Cas had first met him, back when he’d served Heaven with unwavering faith, he used to wander in Dean’s dreams. They were mostly nightmares. Flashes of horror wracking Dean’s mind until he couldn’t take it and he bolted up, fully awake and covered in sweat. Cas had helped, filling Dean with his grace and sending him back to a dreamless slumber. 

But then he’d fallen. He’d fallen from grace, had fallen from Heaven, had fallen from power, and had fallen for Dean. _Fallen in every way imaginable._ So he’d stopped looking. He gave Dean the space he needed and deserved. And now he was back in another of Dean’s dreams. And for all he knew it could be a nightmare. One he could do nothing about. 

The silence in the room was growing thicker and Cas pulled himself from his thoughts to watch dream Cas stare at Dean. Even in Dean’s approximation of him, he could see the longing on his face. The helpless, childish need. His stomach twisted at the expression. If this was Dean’s dream, then Dean knew. He knew how badly Castiel needed him. 

“I miss you.” Dean’s voice sent shivers down Cas’ spine and he turned his attention from his fake self to the hunter. Dean was running a hand anxiously through his hair and biting his lip. But his eyes were open and wide, the same vulnerable look Cas had seen whenever he had hurt the Winchesters. 

“I know,” his own voice answered. 

Lucifer looked back at him and rubbed his hands together, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I couldn’t save you today. I tried. And now you’re stuck with Amara and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I didn’t even get to tell you…” he trailed off and Cas felt his heart lurch. He wanted to reach out, to give comfort to Dean. It wasn’t his fault. He’d tried to save him, and Cas had been the one to let Lucifer in, that had been his choice. 

“Aw, look at that,” Lucifer said, miming wiping a tear away. “He blames himself for your poor decision,” he paused, holding up his hands, “Not that it was a bad decision--letting me in. But look at the poor thing. The need, the want, the _love_ , it’s practically rolling off him in waves.” 

“Shut up,” Cas muttered. 

Dream Cas walked forward and put a hand on Dean’s left shoulder, squeezing gently. Dean looked down at it, and his eyes seemed to widen even further. 

“It’s not your fault.” Cas cringed at the words, spoken so surely in his voice. How badly he wanted to scream the same thing at Dean. Of course it wasn’t his fault. But instead an imitation of him gave Dean the forgiveness Cas so often failed to give himself. He gave him the _best friend_ he could never be. 

And then Cas froze. Because Dean was reaching up his hands, gently cupping the fake angel’s face before leaning in and pressing his lips against his. The kiss lasted barely a second before Dean pulled back, shame written across his face. “I know this isn’t real,” he muttered. 

Dream Cas wound his arms around Dean’s waist and pressed a soft kiss against Dean’s nose. “Let it be real, just for a moment.” 

Cas almost sobbed, and he tried to hide his face in his hands. Dean was so close, but Cas was miles away. He looked so alone, and Cas couldn’t do anything about it. But as he watched, Dean’s face melted into contentment. 

“Okay,” he whispered.

And then Dean was kissing him, and Cas was watching. Fake him leaned into it, pressing Dean closer into him, holding him tenderly. And Cas saw it, finally. The pure want on Dean’s face. It was so obvious, so blinding, and he’d never seen it before. He’d never acted on it and now it was too late. 

Dean pushed the trenchcoat off dream Cas’ shoulders and Cas felt a blush rise in his face, he turned but Lucifer grabbed him from behind, forcing his eyes on the scene unfolding in front of them. 

“So you see, Castiel,” he whispered, “He really does love you back.”

Dean had started panting into the kiss and he pulled his shirt up over his head, smiling into dream Cas’ eyes, gently sliding a thumb over his cheekbone before allowing his eyes to slide shut again. 

“Let me go,” Cas growled. 

“Watch,” Lucifer said with a laugh. 

“Let me go!” Cas shouted, trying not to watch as Dean backed up toward the bed. 

“Fine,” Lucifer said, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. “You’re no fun,” he added before snapping his fingers. The bedroom melted away from his vision and they were back in the confines of Cas’ mind, chained to a wall in a long-forgotten warehouse. 

Lucifer was sitting cross-legged on the counter again, grinning at Castiel. 

He leaned tiredly against the table, trying to process, to reason. Dean couldn’t love him, couldn’t need him. He was worthless, useless, simply a soldier to be expended. 

“You could have had all of that,” Lucifer said. “And you chose me.” The last word was soft. But it dripped disdain and Cas felt it stab him in the gut with such force he nearly cried out. The Devil vanished and he sat at the table again, cradling his head in his hands. 

Hours passed and eventually Amara returned, clearly eager to see the limit of Castiel’s vessel. As pain rushed through him, Cas felt numb. He would never get back to Dean, could never tell him. 

Blow after blow rained down and Lucifer retreated to a deep corner of Cas’ mind, content to let him take the full force of the pain. Cas could only see red, smoke crowding his vision as pain clouded his mind. Then he heard a voice through the smoke. 

_Cas, I don’t know if you can hear me. But we- I need you. Hang on, man. We’re gonna get you back._

Despite everything, he smiled a little. He took a shaky breath and faced Amara with new steel in his eyes. He could fight for Dean. He always had and he always would. 

**Author's Note:**

> i know season 11 happened forever ago but i'm not over it. also... i mean if you liked it kudos and comments?


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